


Rich & Creamy

by amerrierworld



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: Diners, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Masturbation, Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex, dom!Carol, sub!Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:49:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28802331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amerrierworld/pseuds/amerrierworld
Summary: Carol takes you out, and gives you something sweeter than a diner meal.
Relationships: Carol Aird/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 62





	Rich & Creamy

**Author's Note:**

> for the request: Hey, can you write another fanfic similar to Naughty List? Something that’s like dom Carol again and female reader. Maybe Carol could take the reader out to dinner instead. Could this also be a really steamy smut? Basically smut in a public place haha. Thanks ;)

“Mrs Aird.. I don’t know if I can afford these meals,” you admitted as you stared, wide-eyed at your menu. It was an exclusive diner that the blonde had taken you to, and you felt inadequate, even while wearing the best outfit you had in your closet.

“Nonsense, this is my treat,” she puffed her cigarette, “get whatever you like. Really.”

“And how many times must I say to call me Carol,” she added, giving you a pointed but teasing look.

You blushed and buried your nose in the menu. Carol chuckled at your demeanour and calmly sipped her martini. 

Eventually you decided on the soup of the day; a delicious broccoli soup that was three times the price of what you expected broccoli soup to be. Carol nodded in approval as you ordered, 

“Their soups are always delicious,” she commented as the waiter walked away. “Always the perfect amount of thickness, and creaminess.”

Your face flushed with heat, and you sucked in a hard breath. Carol, on the other hand, seemed unaffected, putting out her cigarette in the ashtray.

“What did you get again?” you asked, having forgotten her order after working yourself up to order your own meal.

“The chicken breast,” she said, again not seeing the way you reacted to her words, “apparently it’s quite succulent, I’ve heard.”

“Oh.. how nice,” you managed to say, squirming in your seat.

At that point, Carol’s eyes flickered down to your body for a split second before meeting your gaze again, a smile growing on her face. You wondered if she was simply feeling bad for how uncomfortable you were in such a high-end diner.

You chatted a little while longer, tension easing a little as you discussed normal topics. Carol was an elegant, confident and well put-together woman in her prime, and you absorbed everything she said and did like a sponge. 

Your meals arrived perfectly on time, and you groaned at the smell as the plates were set down. Carol stared at you a moment, but you didn’t notice as you dug in. It was a wonderful soup, thick and delicious. The sounds you were making were hardly lady-like, and you slurped loudly on one particular spoonful.

Carol was cutting into the chicken, and you could see the rich juices flowing from the meat,

“That looks really juicy,” you commented. She raised an eyebrow.

“It does, doesn’t it. Do you like your breast that way, too?”

Realizing what you had said, you blushed, spoon nearly clattering back in your bowl. 

“Oh, no.. I meant..” Carol merely smiled at you, beginning to eat and leaving you with your own dirty thoughts.

You got dessert as well, two bowls of ice cream, because Carol insisted on the top quality of their desserts. You took your time with this meal, because it was more delicious than any ice cream you had ever had. 

You were still working through the meal, commenting on the beautiful flavours, whereas Carol had finished long before you. And watching you eat like that, with seemingly no shame in how you looked or what sounds you were making, it was making her very, _very_ aroused.

Her foot suddenly, slowly, brushed against your leg, making you stutter. She had taken off her heel and her toes pressed against you with no issues at all.

“Shh, Y/N,” she shushed you, sipping her martini like it was the easiest thing to make you come undone. Which it was. 

“Carol- what.. what are you..” your eyes glanced around the diner, worried about anyone seeing you lose your cool.

“Hush, baby,” Carol drawled, her foot inching higher, “does it feel good?”

You dug your spoon forcefully into your ice cream as her toe rubbed against a sensitive spot along your thigh, and you nodded weakly. She grinned,

“Good girl. Want me to keep going?”

“What if someone sees?”

“No one will see. Don’t you trust me?”

You bit your lip, trying to act normal as you lifted the spoon up to your mouth again, your hand shaking uncontrollably. Carol seemed to be enjoying this sight of you immensely, and didn’t hesitate to press her toes against your clit, through your panties. You nearly choked. 

“That’s it,” she urged, “don’t be too suspicious now, hm?”

She rubbed in agonizingly slow circles, behaving as normally as possible, continuing your conversation from before. You squirmed in your seat, wanting more pressure. 

Then it stopped. 

Your eyes snapped up to Carol’s, her face neutral, her eyes blazing,

“I asked you a question, Y/N.”

“O-oh, I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“Am I really boring you so much? Tsk, Y/N, please pay attention,” she teased, “I said, what did you think of your soup?”

“Oh,” you breathed, as her toes began rubbing again. She must have incredibly strength in those calves, you thought, “y-yes it was really good.”

“How so?” her voice was low, thick, brimming with desire.

“It-it was..” your breath hitched, but you pressed on, “really _rich._ L-like, I just couldn’t stop putting it in my mouth.”

You could barely believe what you were saying, but Carol’s eyes darkened and that was enough to make you keep going,

“You were right about the creaminess.. so thick a-and.. addictive,” you gasped, “I wanted to put my whole face in the bowl.”

Then, suddenly, Carol’s foot was gone and she was rising up off of her seat, her coat in hand. She nonchalantly got out and was sliding next to you on your side of the booth. Her perfume enveloped you with how closely she was pressed against you. 

“I want to see you finish yourself off, sweetheart,” her voice was soft, low, and sent shivers through you.

“W-what?” she was putting on her large coat, leaning her arm on the table in a way that shielded you from the rest of the diner. Her head came low and she whispered,

“I won’t ask again.”

You bit your lip, trembling fingers making your way under the waistband of your skirt. Your cunt was dripping and your hand was immediately slippery. Your mouth dropped open and your head leaned back against the booth, your body sliding lower to stretch out your lower half and hide more of you from anyone.

“How wet are you?” Carol asked, her own breathing becoming heavier by the second.

“S-so wet,” you whined.

“Go on. Touch yourself. I want to see your pretty face when you come,” Carol’s voice was like a drug to you, “don’t you want to come for me, baby girl?”

“Yes, please,” you gasped. Your fingers found a familiar rhythm against your wet clit, rubbing hard but desperately trying to keep your noises inside.

“God, if you could see yourself right now,” Carol’s hand reached out to turn along your hairline, tucking some of it behind your ear. She then gripped your chin and forced your gaze to meet hers,

“Do you like this, sweetheart? You enjoy doing whatever I ask, don’t you?”

You nodded, gasping weakly.

“I enjoy it too,” she grinned. “I’d kiss you, but that might make it a little too obvious, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh- Carol,” you wanted her to kiss you so badly, wanted her to smudge her lipstick on your skin, wanted her to mark you, to feel her fingers where her toes had been. Her body was leaning over yours, and you dared a glance at her blouse, which was hanging low, giving you only a glimpse of her bra and the skin underneath. The sight made you rub yourself harder.

“Dirty girl,” Carol scolded, grabbing your trembling thigh with nails digging in through the fabric of your skirt, “just wait until we’re alone.”

The promise of more, to think of her dragging you into her bedroom, in the back of her car, in the bathroom of the diner.. you couldn’t help it. Your fingers increased their speed and suddenly you were flying off the edge, hips stuttering and your mouth hanging open. Carol was inches away from you, grinning at the sight, breathing in your arousal and sweat like oxygen. 

You were sticky _everywhere._ You were afraid to get up, wondering if you had stained your skirt and the seat below you. But Carol didn’t seem concerned at all.

“Such a good, good girl,” she cooed, “show me your fingers.”

You pulled them out, whimpering softly, showing the sticky remains of your cum. Without hesitating, Carol drew them into her mouth, skilled tongue swiping over each finger. You nearly groaned at the feeling, biting your tongue to keep yourself from making noise.

Once clean, she let you have your hand back, leaning back a bit and sitting face forward again. She reached for the spoon in your bowl of half-melted ice cream, and took a big spoonful,

“Hmm.. very creamy,” she commented, winking at you, “sweet.. but tangy, in the best way. To die for, really.” 

“Y-yeah,” you agreed. “M-maybe you should take some home.”

She turned her head and looked at you, calculating.

“Is that what you want? For me to take some home?”

“I mean.. it seems only fair. M-maybe I could try some.. too?”

“Is that so? You think you could handle this? It can be incredibly addicting you know,” her other hand was still digging into your thigh. You could see her chest heaving up and down. 

Over her shoulder you saw the waiter approaching and you steeled yourself, calming your breathing. 

“You’d be surprised at what I can handle,” you whispered back teasingly. She let out an appreciative chuckle and clearly wanted to reply, if it wasn’t for the innocent, polite waiter coming over with the bill.

Carol paid hurriedly, and you took the chance to rub your own leg against hers. Your skin was hot, sweaty, heated from your orgasm, and you could finally, _finally_ , notice Carol losing her own cool.

“You seem a little overheated,” you commented, feeling more confident now that you had come. The waiter had left and she was grabbing her purse, fixing her hair, “are you sure you don’t want to take some ice cream home?”

Her eyes blazed, pulled you out of the booth, and said,

“There’s plenty of it at home. And you’ll be begging for seconds before the night is done, young lady.”

**Author's Note:**

> I’m going straight to hell, but that’s okay. Love y’all~


End file.
